Beaverwood Live

Jade Kelly-Haydon is a young pioneer in stage management and scare acting. Her experience so far unites a range of work in the theme park and entertainments industries in the UK with a hell raising past collection of prosthetics works. A succession of previous staged events under her direction culminated in her masterpiece project in February 2010, Beaverwood Live, a combined stage show, interactive queue line and full-scale scare maze. Her future projects after University includes further developments of her adopted horror alter ego, Nurse Springs.

Beaverwood LIVE – A story which entailed a young girl who took revenge on her local secondary school after the murder of her beloved sister. After battling a severe post-traumatic disorder as well as emotional dysregulation for many years, she was finally allowed to lead a normal school life, but things didn’t quite turn out the way she planned.As her descent into insanity spiraled out of control, her mind slowly took physical form in and around her old classrooms at Beaverwood School for Girls, where all who entered within were forced to face her fears, psychosis and horrific demons within, made flesh.

Review by Jamie ShoesmithA hundred or so souls had the pleasure to delve in to the mind of a classic archetypal horror character at Beaverwood Live, as a cast of scare actors and production team hosted Lola’s Story at Beaverwood School for Girls. The event is the brainchild of Jadey Kelly-Haydon, whose aspiration for prosthetics designed to make the skin crawl and a penchant to entertain in the most unusual of ways spawned a night of miniature theatre and interactive walk-throughs set within her own school in south east London.On a personal note, the evening started unusually enough. Walking into an all-girls’ school is an awkward experience for any member of the opposite gender, especially when queuing in a line of audience members made up predominantly of the production teams’ classmates. The general chatter was one of nervousness concerning the mystery of the evening ahead. Many were unsure what it was they’d bought a ticket to. Directed through to the main hall, the audience took their seats to a mixture of finely-paced bass line and soft overtures of ring-a-ring-a-roses, already creating an unsettling feeling within the assembling crowd. With the house lights purposefully cutting out temporarily every few minutes to the inevitable screams of many, the tension was already palpable, despite not a drop of blood yet being spilt.Finally, the show commenced – three acts of explosive exposition in to the history of Lola, an ex-pupil turned downright insane through a series of bad turns in her young life. As tableaux after tableaux of Lola’s life were performed onstage, the narrative played out over the hall’s sound system had to battle for attention over the rising panic, nervous laughter and audience barracking. Those who came for the basic harum-scarum in-your-face scream set pieces missed out on a wonderfully deep piece of storytelling, an often overlooked area in the horror genre in lieu of imitating Hollywood schlock values. Still, as the performance neared its conclusion, you got the feeling that those who had initially been screaming for the hell of it were now hollering genuinely out of fear. People were scared already – exactly what was wanted here.As a queue formed at a firmly sealed door at the end of the walk-through, the audience now clustered in their groups of peers knew that this was the culmination of the evening. It’s clear this section was an emulation of Thorpe Park’s Asylum attraction, with Jadey herself welcoming us in to the antechamber as her alter ego Nurse Springs, complete with blood-soaked lab coat and horrific facial scars still fresh and glistening in the eerie blue light.Springs is terrifying to be around through her quiet voice and threatening unblinking stare. She kindly points out that I am the only chap in the group, and asks whether I wish to lead the line or go in as the last of the group. I throw it open to the girls of the group – they have no hesitation in putting me at the front. I’m secretly relieved, knowing that the actors will have been prepped to target the middle and back of the line, those being the most vulnerable and preferring to hide behind those in front of them. I make a mental note to walk extremely slowly as a courtesy to the rest of the group and the actors as we delve headlong in to the maze.The experience was one of sheer disorientation. Scare maze designs I’ve experienced previously prefer, naturally enough, to keep things in the dark to heighten the sense of fear. This one was incredibly well-lit, with stark bright strip lighting. The metal wire fences were so narrow as to allow single file only and were draped in white sheets all around. The welcoming lighting and pure white walls stood in brash, brazen contrast to the screaming incessant klaxon sirens and wailing scare actors waiting around each corner.The theme of the maze was Lola’s mind. This was indeed far from a peaceful mind – the actors were a mixture of out-and-out physically grotesque monsters and a more subtle blend of her other irrational insecurities – namely, wounded and scarred patients and the demonic undead physicians and surgeons who were supposed to have been curing her psychosis.As the maze wore on and I kept getting continuous prods in the back to walk faster, the unwelcome combination of claustrophobia, nausea, pandemonium and plain terror set in. Scare actors couldn’t be ignored – each scene was like a car crash and just had to be looked at rather than ignored. The end drew near and the strobes kicked in. The fences, now devoid of white cloth, gave the most amazing illusion of appearing to shift noticeably backwards, and I had trouble staying on my feet. I clambered over the last bloodied hospital zombie and make good our escape.Stumbling suddenly in to the bitterly freezing cold mid-February evening was something of a relief if only for a few moments, for as the tail end of the group emerged in to the night, a demon that had escaped from the mind maze wielded a genuine, roaring chainsaw towards us. Never mind the safety guard was on and this particular actor had a perfectly controlled operation of the chainsaw mastered, we had just about had enough by now, our nerves too shredded to consider such health and safety logic. In the state we were in, all we were aware of was being attacked by a lunatic with a tree-feller. We just needed to get the hell out of there. What a way to finish, chasing the audience out of the grounds. It was a master stroke where it could so easily have been a soggy, incomplete ending. Finally gathering ourselves, we have the time to look over our shoulders and manage a laugh as the next group are routinely terrified by the Leatherface impersonator, the stench of petrol now thick in the air.Beaverwood Live was excellent. This isn’t just some hyperbole aimed at what is, on the face of it, a school project for a young entrepreneur dipping her feet into the horror entertainment industry. It was so much more than that – time and care had been put in to the details, building the back-story, and in ensuring the execution of a three-part serial of live theatre was one to get everyone talking.Many may return to their beds tonight faced with flashbacks of bogeymen and retention of the unrelenting fear felt earlier on. Others will simply head off in to the night with an uncontrollable smile on their face in the knowledge they’re been entertained in one of the most weird and wonderful ways. Either way, it’s a winning reaction.

This review was prepared by Michael Bolton and originally appeared on Haunted Attractions UK.

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Horror is a difficult genre to pin down. It appeals to many but the reactions are manifold. Some bite the bullet and stomach the gore and bloodshed encased in a shell of masochism. Others will flinch and jump, causing those nearby to amplify their distress. There are some who will simply bury their head in whatever furniture or friend may be best to smother the scenes from their eyes and ears. What is hard to comprehend is how the producers and writers have the nerve to concoct such horrific storylines of human suffering. Are these people closet murderers or sadists themselves, or just gifted (so to speak) with such an active imagination to calculate the plots and stories which toe the fine line between heart-stopping entertainment and gut-wrenching revulsion?

A hundred or so souls had the pleasure to delve in to the mind of a classic archetypal horror character at “Beaverwood Live”, as a cast of scare actors and production team hosted “Lola’s Story” at Beaverwood School for Girls. The event is the brainchild of Jadey Kelly-Haydon, whose aspiration for prosthetics designed to make the skin crawl and a penchant to entertain in the most unusual of ways spawned a night of miniature theatre and interactive walk-throughs set within her own school in south east London.

On a personal note, the evening started unusually enough. Walking into an all-girls’ school is an awkward experience for any member of the opposite gender, especially when queuing in a line of audience members made up predominantly of the production teams’ classmates. The general chatter was one of nervousness concerning the mystery of the evening ahead. Many were unsure what it was they’d bought a ticket to. Directed through to the main hall, the audience took their seats to a mixture of finely-paced bassline and soft overtures of ring-a-ring-a-roses, already creating an unsettling feeling within the assembling crowd. With the house lights purposefully cutting out temporarily every few minutes to the inevitable screams of many, the tension was already palpable, despite not a drop of blood being spilt (yet!).

A few weeks earlier, Jadey had shown me two photographs in comparison – one of her school hall where we, the audience, were now sat, and the other an archive photograph of a lunatic asylum’s main hall. The resemblance was uncanny – high, out-of-reach windows, placed for natural light and fresh air to come in, but for no-one or nothing to look or escape outward, gave way to a perfectly semi-circular barrel vaulted ceiling. She told me this was the standard design of such institutions – the asylum, that is, not the school. Very few were aware of it, but the setting was ideal. The school was a lunatic asylum. Well, some of the teachers might have formed that conclusion years ago.

Finally, the show commenced – three acts of explosive exposition in to the history of Lola, an ex-pupil turned downright insane through a series of bad turns in her young life. As tableaux after tableaux of Lola’s life were performed onstage, the narrative played out over the hall’s sound system had to battle for attention over the rising panic, nervous laughter and audience barracking (quiet at the back!). Those who came for the basic harum-scarum in-your-face scream set pieces missed out on a wonderfully deep piece of storytelling, an often overlooked area in the horror genre in lieu of imitating Hollywood schlock values. Still, as the performance neared its conclusion, you got the feeling that those who had initially been screaming for the hell of it were now hollering genuinely out of fear. People were scared already – exactly what was wanted here.

With the sit-down performance over, the audience found themselves on their feet as, row by row, wary groups were escorted on a walk-through of the school’s corridors. The route to follow was clear enough as a trail of destruction littered the route: discarded papers, leaves, dirt, blood-stained cloth and even abandoned police tape were more than enough to suggest this was the scene of something gone very, very wrong. On the final straight we encountered our first real close-up scare actors and things going bump in the night. But the theatrics were still just getting going.

As a queue formed at a firmly sealed door at the end of the walk-through, the audience now clustered in their groups of peers knew that this was the culmination of the evening. The word was out – next up was a scare maze, a concept adopted from theme parks such as Disney rivals in Florida and, closer to home, Thorpe Park with their many Halloween sideshows. These mazes have a massive magnetic draw over the October half term, attracting 2-hour-plus waits in some cases. The term ‘maze’ is something of a misnomer – the route is one way with no dead ends, groups following their noses through tight corridors encountering scare actors who aren’t afraid to get up close and personal to frighten the wits out of you.

It’s clear this particular maze was an emulation of Thorpe’s designs, with Jadey herself welcoming us in to the antechamber as her alter ego Nurse Springs, complete with bloodsoaked labcoat and horrific facial scars still fresh and glistening in the eerie blue light. Jadey – or Springs – is in her element here, the right person to give the safety spiel about what’s expected of the guests, and the ideal character to give her audience the final geeing up as they head into the maze. Springs is terrifying to be around through her quiet voice and threatening unblinking stare. She kindly points out that I am the only chap in the group, and asks whether I wish to lead the line or go in as the last of the group. I throw it open to the girls of the group – they have no hesitation in putting me at the front. I’m secretly relieved, knowing that the actors will have been prepped to target the middle and back of the line, those being the most vulnerable and preferring to hide behind those in front of them. I make a mental note to walk extremely slowly as a courtesy to the rest of the group and the actors as we delve headlong in to the maze.

The experience was one of sheer disorientation. Scare maze designs I've experienced previously prefer, naturally enough, to keep things in the dark to heighten the sense of fear. This one was incredibly well-lit, with stark bright strip lighting. The metal wire fences were so narrow as to allow single file only and were draped in white sheets all around. The welcoming lighting and pure white walls stood in brash, brazen contrast to the screaming incessant klaxon sirens and wailing scare actors waiting around each corner.

The theme of the maze was Lola’s mind. This was indeed far from a peaceful mind – the actors were a mixture of out-and-out physically grotesque monsters and a more subtle blend of her other irrational insecurities – namely, wounded and scarred patients and the demonic undead physicians and surgeons who were supposed to have been curing her psychosis.

As the maze wore on and I kept getting continuous prods in the back to walk faster, the unwelcome combination of claustrophobia, nausea, pandemonium and plain terror set in. Scare actors couldn’t be ignored – each scene was like a car crash and just had to be looked at rather than ignored. The end drew near and the strobes kicked in. The fences, now devoid of white cloth, gave the most amazing illusion of appearring to shift noticeably backwards, and I had trouble staying on my feet. I clambered over the last bloodied hospital zombie and make good our escape.

Stumbling suddenly in to the bitterly freezing cold mid-February evening was something of a relief if only for a few moments, for as the tail end of the group emerged in to the night, a demon that had escaped from the mind maze wielded a genuine, roaring chainsaw towards us. Never mind the safety guard was on and this particular actor had a perfectly controlled operation of the chainsaw mastered, we had just about had enough by now, our nerves too shredded to consider such health and safety logic. In the state we were in, all we were aware of was being attacked by a lunatic with a tree-feller. We just needed to get the hell out of there. What a way to finish, chasing the audience out of the grounds. It was a master stroke where it could so easily have been a soggy, incomplete ending. Finally gathering ourselves, we have the time to look over our shoulders and manage a laugh as the next group are routinely terrified by the Leatherface impersonator, the stench of petrol now thick in the air.

Jadey Kelly-Haydon’s Beaverwood Live was excellent. This isn’t just some hyperbole aimed at what is, on the face of it, a school project for a young entrepreneur dipping her feet into the horror entertainment industry. It was so much more than that – time and care had been put in to the details, building the backstory, and in ensuring the execution of a three-part serial of live theatre was one to get everyone talking.

Catching up with Jadey after the last stragglers had finally made their way through the maze, the troubling revs of the chainsaw finally silenced, she is clearly very upset, despite the success of the evening. Her maze is already being dismantled. The room needs to be used to educate again the next morning, and the wire fences have been unceremoniously torn apart. The instrument she has poured so much time, effort and (impressively limited) budget in to has served its purpose and has already lost its imposing menace over the room’s occupants.

Jadey is certainly not of a murderous disposition – out of character, she’s sweet and smiling as dozens offer their congratulations. She is the stage manager, producer, storyteller, make-up artist, actor and director all rolled in to one. Her wonderful cast (there are too many to name) have perfectly understood what was expected of them at each twist and turn. She has ensured that her audience have been thrown through a wild Machiavellian mindf**k of the senses enough to rival any professional scare maze performance.

Many may return to their beds tonight faced with flashbacks of bogeymen and retention of the unrelenting fear felt earlier on. Others will simply head off in to the night with an uncontrollable smile on their face in the knowledge they’re been entertained in one of the most weird and wonderful ways. Either way, it’s a winning reaction.

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